


Family Photo

by GoldenDaydreams



Series: DBH: CRIMINAL AU [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Angst, Brief Violence, Child Abuse, Dark Christmas, Gen, Human!Simon, Hurt/Minimal comfort, Minor Character Death, Self-Defense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: DECEMBER 25 2029There are cracks in the Anderson family- and they're about to shatter.





	Family Photo

**Author's Note:**

> You will notice the androids using messaging codes. These are the numbers (it really isn't very important, and the three main ones [Connor, Nines, and Markus are easy to remember])
> 
> 2- Markus  
> 3- Rupert  
> 4- Jerry  
> 5- Lucy  
> 6- Traci  
> 7- Karlie  
> 8- Connor  
> 9- Nines

DECEMBER 25 2029  
  
The entirety of the sprawling Anderson home was decorated with care. Not by Claire, Hank’s wife, but by Connor. There was a large wreath on the front door. A seven foot tall tree had been put in the living room, and decorated in silver and gold ornaments and strings of red balls twisted throughout. There was a poinsettia on the dining room table, and a little Santa figurine in the bathroom. The bedrooms all had hoops with red and green bells on the door knobs. There was a little bit of something everywhere.   
  
Not only did it look beautiful, but it set a scene for a lovely holiday. Until Hank’s phone went off.   
  
“Don’t-” Claire said, grabbing her glass of wine in such a way that the candle light reflected off of her wedding band.   
  
“I have to,” Hank said, answering it as he stood. “Hello?” he greeted as he walked out of the room.   
  
The silence was uneasy. He hadn’t figured out how to make small talk with Claire without the woman lashing out, so he took Nines’s advice- stop talking to her altogether. It made it awkward though, with Claire pushing food around on her plate, while Connor cradled Cole in his arms, feeding him a bottle. “I’m sure he won’t take long,” Connor said in defense of Hank, unable to take the tension between them. “It is Christmas after all.”   
  
“What the hell do you know?” Claire shot him a scathing look. “You were activated, what, a month ago?” She wasn’t far off. “And what the fuck are you even good for?”   
  
His initial protocols had been shifted. Originally speaking, Nines was meant to care for Cole, but when the house had been attacked, Simon had prematurely awoken Nines before he was finished, but awake and aware, Nines refused to go back under to be ‘completed’. Simon had added Nines’s original functions to his programs to make up for it all.   
  
“I’m here to care for Cole.”   
  
“I can take care of my own son,” Claire spat.   
  
Hank came back into the room looking weary. “I’m taking Nines. There is something we’ve got to deal with.”   
  
“Now?” Claire asked.   
  
“Yes, now,” Hank replied, he went to kiss her, but she turned her cheek. He huffed out a breath and backed off. “I’m sorry.”   
  
“Just go,” Claire said. “It’s what you’re good at.”   
  
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Hank said, but it clearly did nothing to placate Claire. Instead, he kissed the top of Cole’s head. “Keep watch on the house,” he said to Connor.   
  
“Of course, Hank,” Connor replied. It was a given. He saw Nines in the doorway, black turtleneck, black jeans, and pulling on his second black leather glove, hiding the white and soft glowing blue lines of his exoskeleton. His dermal layer was one of the things unfinished when he’d been awoken.   
  
<9-8< Did you know you have dry spit up on your shoulder?  
>8-9> Seriously?  
<9-8< Should have used a blanket.  
  
Connor sighed, swiping away the conversation. Hank gave Nines a nod as he took the lead before Nines followed. A moment later he heard the front door shut, and he brought up the security program for the house, locking the door once again.   
  
“Give me him,” Claire said, holding out her hands.   
  
“He needs to be burped,” Connor said.   
  
“I know how to care for my son! I don’t need some plastic pretender to care for my child.” She took him from his arms, cradled him to her chest and walked away.   
  
He sat there for a moment, took in the half finished plates, the soft glow of the candles in the centerpiece, the tinsel and lights over the window. Hank and Claire’s marriage had been falling apart long before he’d been activated Markus had assured him of that. It wasn’t his presence that was upsetting a balance. He wished the other android was around, but he was out with Simon- they’d planned some fancy date night. None of the other androids were around either, the house usually had one or two around, but they were all out on tasks.   
  
He stood, blew out the candles, scraped off the plates, and put the dishes in the dishwasher. He heard Cole’s cry, faint on the other side of the house, but he still heard it. Everything in him wanted to go and comfort the boy, find what bothered the infant, and soothe him. Claire was with him. He put away the rest of the food finding the most optimal configuration for the refrigerator, and when that chore was done, the baby was still crying.   
  
Deciding that it would at least be beneficial to change his shirt, he went up to the room he shared with Nines. Jerry did most of the laundry, a lot of the chores too. He’d developed too soft a personality for Hank’s liking, but it happened. Simon refused to put the same restrictions on their personality matrix that Kamski did. They developed all on their own, their minds free. Occasionally, that would mean someone too soft- like Jerry. Or too hard, like Nines.   
  
Jerry and Lucy had gone to some tree-lighting event. There was still hours before they could be expected back. He wasn’t sure where Rupert was, but thought it was too invasive to ping him. Traci, and Karlie were dealing with suppliers who’d been light on their last two batches of red ice.   
  
The emptiness of the house left him unsettled. He opened the wardrobe. Nines’s clothes were on the left, his were on the right. They were of the same make, like Traci and Karlie, they wore their hair different, but were otherwise identical. He and Nines were built the same, easier to build a couple from the same blueprints, to make the same parts twice over. The fact that they had different eye colour came down to an error in theft, some mislabelled boxes stolen by Karlie. Optical units were too much work for Simon, and easier to just steal.   
  
He pulled off his blazer, and placed it in the hamper. He went to grab a different one when he heard it- the abrupt cut off of Cole’s cry. He was already halfway down the hall before he realized what it meant. He didn’t knock, he slammed open the door to Hank and Claire’s room to see her look over her shoulder, wide-eyed and red-faced.   
  
She held a pillow over Cole’s face.  
  
He yanked her off, shoved the pillow aside, and heard the most beautiful sound- Cole’s cry. “What is wrong wit-” his words were cut off by the sudden impact on the back of his head.   
  
>8-9> assistance required  
  
A vase, he realized, taking in the blue and white ceramic on the floor. She’d broken a vase over the back of his head. Worse, there were glass shards around Cole. He couldn’t get a good read on the message from Nines, she must have damaged that portion of his system.   
  
“He needs to be free of this place, we need to be free of this place!” she screeched. “You, and all those other plastic things walking around here-” she opened the top drawer and he spotted the gun before she even took it out.   
  
He rushed her, grabbing her wrist, pushing it up. The gun went off, bullet in the ceiling. He grabbed her by the throat, twisted her wrist until the gun fell from her hand. “Claire! Stop!” She shot out with a punch that hit his regulator, it stalled out his system for a second. In that moment, she dove for the gun, and he grabbed a fist full of the back of her shirt and threw her back.   
  
He heard the crack, and knew he’d thrown with too much force. The back of her head had hit the corner of the dresser. “Oh… no,” he whispered, Cole was still screaming, and Claire was in a heap on the floor, blood staining her festive dress shirt.   
  
The stress on his systems increased, cooling fans kicked in. He grabbed Cole, held the infant to his chest. “Shh, it’s okay, Cole, it’s okay.”   
  
::  
  
Nines burst through the door first. Connor looked up from his spot on the floor, back to the wall, Cole cradled to his chest. “She-she-she-” he tried to explain but the word kept getting stuck, skipping like a broken record.   
  
“Claire!” Hank was on his knees, at his wife’s side in an instant. His trousers were getting soaked in her blood. Jerry would never be able to get them clean.   
  
“She-she-she-” Connor wanted to explain, to beg, to plea for Hank to understand. He hadn’t meant to kill her. He’d only meant to keep her from the gun. Only meant to keep her from hurting Cole, from killing Cole.   
  
“Connor.” Nines crouched in front of him, his body blocking out the sight of Hank and Claire. “What happened?”   
  
“What did you do?” Hank’s voice roared, and suddenly a hand was on Nine’s shoulder, pulling him back, but Nines was an unmovable object.   
  
“She-she-she-”  
  
Hank tried to move Nines again, but Nines had clearly locked his joints. “Connor’s damaged.” His hand touched the back of his neck and his hand came away covered in blue. “She did this to you?”   
  
“She-she-” Connor couldn’t get it out, thoughts couldn’t make words, couldn’t get to his mouth, couldn’t explain. He let his skin pull back, Nines pulled off his gloves and pressed his hand against Connor’s accepting the information. More than that, Connor realized as the television across the room came on, startling Hank, he was broadcasting the data.   
  
Cole’s screams. Connor running down the hall. Claire holding the pillow over Cole’s face. The ensuing fight. Staring down at Claire’s dead body, blood beginning to pool. Cole, utter focus on Cole.   
  
The feed ended. “She was trying to kill Cole,” Nines said, cold as ever as he stood. “Priority of life protocols you had us embedded with is to prioritize Cole over everyone. Yourself, and Claire included.”   
  
“I didn’t mean to kill her,” Connor finally managed to get the words through his processors, and out his mouth. “I just… I couldn’t let her kill Cole.”   
  
Hank was still staring at the television. “Nines?” He paused a long time, neither android or baby made any noise. “Get rid of her body.”   
  
“Do you want it hidden, or exposed?”   
  
“Hidden.”   
  
Nines nodded. “I’m going to need some tarps.” He looked between Hank and Connor, eyes lingering on the android. Connor nodded, vaguely wondering if Nines was trying to message him and he couldn’t receive. Nines turned, and left.   
  
Hank finally looked at him. “Give me him.”   
  
Connor walked over, carefully deposited Cole in Hank’s arms.   
  
Hank was gentle with the sleeping boy. “Call Simon. Get yourself patched up.”   
  
“You… you don’t want me destroyed?” He had to ask, he had to know, he had to be sure.   
  
Hank just stared down at the baby in his arms. “You saved my son, Connor. You did the right thing.”   
  
Connor registered the praise, then left the room. He needed to get in contact with Simon, or Markus, and since his messaging suite was corrupted, he’d have to find an actual phone to do it.   
  
::  
  
“And, there we go, all done,” Simon said.   
  
Connor’s legs were stretched out in front of him, he sat on a low work bench so that Simon could work on the back of his head. He reactivated his dermal layer before he touched the back of his head, his hair and skin came back in fine, the new plate had eliminated the damage. He dropped his hand back to his lap. “Thank you, Simon.”   
  
“You’re welcome,” Simon replied. “Some Christmas, huh?”   
  
“How… how could she do that?” Connor asked. The thought alone caused the thirium in rushing through his body to feel like billions of little spikes dragging along the lines.   
  
“Not everyone who is a mother is fit to be.” Simon sighed. “She…” he shook his head. “She’s gone now, and Hank wouldn’t want us talking about this.”   
  
Talking about what? The depression? The pills? The drugs? He didn’t say it, didn’t ask, deep down he already knew the answer.   
  
::  
  
By New Years it was as if Claire had never existed. Body was gone, and the blood washed away. Photographs, clothes, jewellery, her favourite books, the old antique chair she’d loved, the ornate candlesticks of her mother’s, her coats and shoes from the closet- everything that was hers, everything that was associated with her was gone.   
  
<2-all< That is everything.   
>8-all> There is a photograph still in Cole’s room.  
<4-all< The boy should have a picture of his mother when he is older.   
<7-all< She tried to kill him.  
<6-all< Hank will remove it if he wants it gone.  
<5-all< Agreed.  
  
And in that picture, Claire was smiling, dazzled by the little boy in her arms. She didn’t look as put together as she usually did, her hair a mess, sweat still on her face, the picture taken just after delivery, Hank with his arms around them both.   
  
Nines stepped up beside him, assessing the same photo.   
  
>8-9> They look so happy.   
<9-8< Appearances can be deceiving.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, I'm now hanging out over on the [ Detroit: New ERA ](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm) Discord channel, (same username as I use here) Lots of good DBH stuff going on over there ;)


End file.
